The Simple Things
by Azzandra
Summary: An Eyrie muses about her owner. Something I wrote for the Neopian Times, but was rejected. complete


The Simple Things  
by VulpisArcanis

Soft light filtered through the bare branches of an oak tree. Jagged patterns of shadows were drawn on the cimented driveway. The oak tree loomed over the fence of a house: its removal would have left an unsightly hole in the ground, so the owners preffered to build their fence over the roots and leave it be.

The electrical Eyrie's shadow engulfed the stray patches of light on the ground as she passed, miraculously revealing them again in her passing. There was an imperceptible click where her claws tapped on the ground and the paper bag clung in her beak made a soothing ruffling sound. Sometimes, withered leaves would catch to her claws and she'd shake her leg energically to pry them loose.

Autumn had come unusually early that year in Meridell, to the Eyrie's unexplained distress. There was a tight connection in her mind between summer and freedom, one she had gained from her owner. Vulpis started school again. Vulpis, Adie's owner. Adie knew as much that school meant tugging the hem of Vulpis' pyjama until she fell out of bed, at some ungodly hour of the morning, and fixing a cold breakfast so Vulpis could eat and run. Adie much liked their small morning routine: she'd try to wake Vulpis up, when she knew her owner was already awake and poking fun at her precious worried Eyrie. Adie had more than once seen Vulpis' gaze land on her through slitted eyelids, from under her eyelashes.

Last day of summer. Last day of, more-or-less, freedom. Adie wanted to fix one of her delicious breakfasts: scrambled neggs with bacon.

Usually, when one wanted to make scrambled neggs, one would stop by the grocery store and buy their gaudy stale and old neggs. Adie had shown little appreciation for those neggs. She had bought her own, by flying to Terror Mountain and buying them straight from the Neggery.

Adie still felt a certain stiffness in her wing joints. While she was flying, she felt a thin line of cold traversing her right wing, from the middle of it moving all the way down to her wing tip. She didn't even notice this until she started to land and realised the cold she was feeling was from an icicle that she had probably struck in her flight and got imbedded between her feathers. Adie had to pick the small ice fragments from her feathers in order not to freeze in mid-flight and plummet to her doom, as Vulpis would put it. This, in itself, was a hard job and she hadn't completed it in fear that she may not get back home on time: she had had to get up three hours early and she had no intention of doing that for nothing.

The flight back had been slightly less eventful and a tad more relaxed. When not in a hurry, Adie much liked to soar, letting herself be carried by thermals. This rarely happened, as Adie was a tall and solidly built Neopet and Terror Mountain had the temperature of an icebox. But over Meridell, the soft autumn air had quite a warm tint to it.

Adie swung the front gate open. She noted in passing that the second-hand picket fence needed a new paint job and she also noted grimly that since Vulpis was going to be busy, she might as well do it herself. Or she might co-opt Inny for the job-- they had made quite a nice job when the roof needed repairing. That was before he started lab ray treatments and was still a blue Uni.

The gate also seemed to squeak and Adie made a mental note on that as well. The door, however, opened with nearly no sound, making it obvious it had been used greatly in the last months.

Adie set the brown paper bag on the counter, in the kitchen, while she rummaged in the cupboards for a bowl. There was a sour underlayer to her motions as she contemplated the neggs in her bag. Last breakfast of freedom. Funny how the simple things held such a connotation in Adie's mind.

The simple things... yes. Vulpis had always said it's the simple things that offered the most frightening revelations. At the time, Adie had brushed the comment off, blaming it on the mysticism Vulpis had gained from reading those strange books she said "came from the real world". Who cared about the real world? Adie's world was more important to her than a surreal spot somewhere, out there, from whence Vulpis just sprouted one day and came to take care of Adie.

That was not fully right. Vulpis rarely took care of Adie and Inny. They took care of her. Vulpis just supplied the means (Neopoints, in some cases).

Adie stopped halfway between the cupboard and the counter, her brow furrowed, a bowl strongly clutched in her paw, in a position that showed she had stopped in mid-step.

Come to think of it, what had Vulpis ever done for them? She should be here, at Adie's every beck and call, appologising eventually. That was Adie's judgement. However, her judgement seemed to be patchy. Something was not pieced together right, as if the line of her thoughts had been cut and the ends knotted back together, in a likeliness of logical thinking.

There is always that one snowflake that causes an avalanche. Just one snowflake. Inny said that once, with a look of ageless wisdom on his face and his face splattered in ice-cream. It was supposed to be funny. Adie had walked in one day on him while he was raiding the fridge and had found Vulpis' secret stock of ice-cream. She asked if he knew what a stupid thing he had done and continued in a tirade about the prank war that started the last time they raided her chocolate supply. And Inny had simply replied: There is always just one snowflake that causes an avalanche.

Adie sat herself on the kitchen floor, looking down at the bowl in her paws while tracing a small crack with the tip of her claw. She tried to erase the look of bewilderment on her face but had she been in front of a mirror, she would have realised that wasn't happening any time soon.

Adie had seen that same look of ageless wisdom on Vulpis' face. Still while she was joking. A solemn face saying an amusing aforism was often funnier than an impish face saying a joke. Especially when you know that whatever statement came out of Vulpis' or Inny's mouthes had little to no relation to the previously discussed subject.

Vulpis had said, "You may not know it, Adie, but you're more happy than you think." The statement was a disturbing one indeed, but that effect was anulled by what came next: "Laugh, darn you! Laugh!"

Taken out of context, perhaps the joke wasn't that funny. But it was a subtle hint to that day's events.

Adie realised that Inny and Vulpis were like two circles that intersected eachother: they shared a part of that wispy personality that had sometimes given them both the label "annoying". If Inny was like Vulpis, chances were Adie was like her too (to some degree, at least).

Adie had almost wanted to appologise to her owner for thinking the traitorous thoughts from before, but realised it was ridiculous. Vulpis hadn't heard her. All just as well. Now, Adie just felt like her thoughts were a strange sacrilege against her owner. Her owner that was right. She really was happier than she thought. Strangely, the same things Vulpis and Inny said so lightheartedly weighted so much in Adie's heart. She'd have to write all these things down one day. Just to keep them for posterity.

Adie placed the bowl on the counter and started making breakfast. The simple things mattered, after all... And not just in Adie's little world.

The End


End file.
